For Comfort
by MiaGhost
Summary: Wraith continued drinking after the party, and once again she's on his doorstep; drunk, tired, and in need of comforting. Part 8 of For Life, For Love, For Blood and Glory.


~.~

Pulling the door open, he almost ended up with an armful of her as she caught her balance. It was apparent that until Elliot had opened it, she'd been leaning against the dark wood. She looked… dejected. Tired. She smelt faintly of alcohol. He stepped wordlessly aside to let her in.

For a second her eyes flickered down the hallway behind him, as though looking for something, or-

Oh, right. Elsie. Elliot swallowed and glanced away when she met his eye again, clearing his throat. He didn't know why he couldn't meet her eye. Part of him was scared, as she eventually stepped into the apartment, that if he saw her eyes he'd see pity. Pity that he couldn't be charming enough to take his date home, or maybe surprise, maybe she'd query him breaking a time-tested tradition, or-

Elliot winced as he locked the door again. He had way too much alcohol in his system to be having painful thoughts. Not when the pleasant effects had already started fading. He followed her to the kitchen. She dropped into a dining chair with a soulful sigh, resting her head in her arms. She looked exhausted, and he was admittedly a little worried as he crossed the room to fill a glass with water.

He slid into the seat next to her as he pushed the glass across the table, and she turned her face just enough to look at him. He raised an eyebrow, and tried his best to smile.

"Too many shots?"

For a moment she stared at him, dark eye studying him. He always felt exposed when she did that, looked at him like she was reading everything that was written in his soul, in his heart. He swallowed, and waited.

Several minutes passed before she sighed, sitting up to reach for the water. They sat in quiet, and Elliot couldn't remember the last time he felt so wrong-footed in her presence. Usually sitting quietly with Wraith was strangely comforting. She'd always soothed that restless urge in him, to fill the silence with noise, with words. Any words, all the words he could find. She could sit beside him and he'd feel less inclined to babble pointlessly. Like she knew what he wanted to say already, and he didn't need to try and word it.

But now, it didn't feel like that. It felt… wary. The air felt like it might crackle with lightning any minute, and Elliot didn't know what to do about it. It dragged on, so eventually he tapped a gentle rhythm on the tabletop and pushed his chair back out.

"I'll put the shower on." he offered quietly, unsure what else to do.

Wraith said nothing as he left the room.

With the shower running to warm up and a fresh towel left on the rack, Elliot was sifting through the contents of his dresser for something that would be comfortable for her to sleep in. Not that that was difficult, between all the merchandise he never threw away and all his oversized shirts, really he could give her pretty much anything.

Only, Elliot had long ago implemented a rule, in his own head. When he'd first realised how he felt. Long before he was in love with Wraith, he'd passed through an initial attraction. Who wouldn't? She was beautiful, smart and surprisingly witty, if you managed to get past those initial barriers she erected between her and the world.

So at first, she was the pretty girl on his squad who could kill him a hundred different ways. Then she was the squadmate he relied on more than he'd ever relied on anyone, besides Path. Closeness was inevitable, then, forged in blood and battle. Dressing her in his old clothes would be a little intimate, and a little weird. Dressing her in something he regularly wore would be _weird_. He'd passed that stage. Then he'd survived the crush, when she started opening up to him. Again, a new, deeper level of understanding. A new closeness. She became the best friend he'd die for, the person he trusted more than anyone else in the world.

And then, then he'd made this, potentially his greatest mistake. He'd fallen in love with her. He'd crossed that line between 'I love you' and '_I love you_'. He wasn't sure that making sure it was old clothes he let her borrow would make any difference, but he was afraid, regardless, to look at it any other way.

Jeez, he was so over thinking this, it was just _clothes_, for-

"I thought you'd gotten lost."

He turned in surprise, to see her leaning against the doorway in just her dark jeans and a thin shirt, cuffs brushing her fingertips. Her gloves were missing, and Elliot could see the shine of the scars she'd shown him once, the marks of the Void. He was reminded just how close they'd grown, that she was comfortable without all her layers, the shields that her clothes were for her.

"Just looking for a shirt." he swallowed, turning back to the drawer.

He heard her tread, a little uneven as she swayed. Wraith was real good at not looking as drunk as she must be, so even just a small sway was an indication that she'd had _a lot_. He let her lean against his shoulder a little when she stopped, and her hands reached into the drawer to lift the shirt he'd almost chosen. When she pulled it out it was clear it'd swamp her, but Elliot saw the flicker of a smile on her face as she read the slogan.

"You got a shirt for _every_ catchphrase, or just the dorky ones?" she murmured, and he huffed, shoving her a little.

"You love my lines."

An exaggerated eye roll, and she was walking away. Elliot watched her, biting back a smile. It was pretty wicked to see her so comfortable, in his apartment. It was… weird, but made his heart throb softly with an odd pleasure.

"You want coffee?" he called as she closed the bathroom door, but thought he listened, there was reply.

He headed through anyway, filling the water jug and flipping the switches on. He dumped a bunch of sugar in his own and left hers how she liked it, splashing _maybe_ a touch too much milk. He sat at the table with it, listening to the sound of the shower and watching the sky outside the window until he heard the water shut off. The quiet creak of the door, and her bare feet on the hallway carpet.

Elliot sat till he'd drained his mug but she didn't show, and a fond smile touched his lips as he left his mug in the sink. Straight to bed, then. He peered around the doorway into the darkened bedroom, where she was already in his bed, pale arms and dark hair against the sheets. He was quiet as he made his way over, but she was still awake. One eye cracked open an inch to see him, and he smiled.

"Too tired for coffee, huh?" he teased, reaching out to sort the tangle she'd made of the covers.

"Can't keep sleeping here." she mumbled into the pillow as her eyes fell shut again.

"Course you can." he hummed, dragging the blanket up to her shoulders, "Why wouldn't you?"

One sapphire eye opened and looked at him, much more intensely than he was prepared for.

"Fucks things up." she answered cryptically, and closed it again.

Elliot snorted, puzzled.

"What d'you mean?"

Wraith gave a sigh, rolling clumsily onto her back and opening her eyes to look at him as he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her.

"Elliot, I'm in your bed." she whispered sadly as one arm dropped across her forehead, her gaze dancing around the room and avoiding his face, "This is why Katie left. Why... the others left."

Elliot's heart stuttered and tangled in its strings, bumping painfully. He reached out, fingers halting before they made contact, retreating again.

"That's not true."

Her deadpan gaze called him a liar.

"Wraith…"

"They left because of me." she muttered, turning her face down into the pillow again, her brows knitting together, "I keep… messing up your life."

He chuckled, giving her an amused, disbelieving look. It was surreal, he realised, to have her there, drunk and… insecure. It wouldn't matter how many times he saw it, it was always so strange.

"You don't mess up anything, Wraith. Really. I'd rather you were here than-" he caught himself, and his words stalled.

A heartbeat of silence. Then she sighed heavily, and didn't seem to hear the implication he did. The same implication that had his face heating and his pulse picking up its pace.

"I should… Get somewhere in the city. Somewhere closer than the Hub."

Elliot slipped up the duvet, pulling his legs up to sit against the headboard beside her. She burrowed into the covers, but he smiled at her.

"It's an idea." he answered, chuckling softly, "But you're always welcome here."

"Fuckss it up.." she mumbled, her voice growing soft and vulnerable at the edges as her walls seemed to finally crumble.

Elliot had always secretly loved seeing Wraith sleepy. When she seemed to forget all the anxieties of the day, when she was soft and malleable and didn't choose her words so carefully. He liked being the person who got to see that. When she was rubbed soft by alcohol and exhaustion, safe in his apartment.

Where he was the one who could offer her comfort. Maybe it was his ego talking, but he'd be surprised if there was anyone else in her life who could do the same, who cared-

His stomach clenched a little bit. That was kind of a sad thought, and he didn't want to finish it.

"Doesn't fuck up anything." he whispered back, "You're my partner, remember?" a touch of amusement found him and he smiled, "Remember that time I told you we'd be BFFs, and you didn't believe me?"

As he spoke, his fingers had found her hair, dark as ebony where it lay loose against the pillow, and he'd run his fingertips along the strands without even noticing what he'd done until her sleepy hum alerted him. He stilled, a flush of embarrassed fear rising, but she seemed not to mind. Or maybe she was too close to sleep to even realise what he'd done.

When she rubbed face into the pillow her head leaned against his palm, and his gut lurched.

Or… maybe not?

He sat for what felt like forever, trying to find the courage. BFFs, yeah right, Witt. Idiot.

"Wraith?"

Her breath was heavy with sleep when she made a half-awake sound.

"I'm glad you come here." he admitted in a whisper.

"I like it best here." she yawned back, every word slow and almost unrecognisable, "It's familiar, and safe."

Elliot's face warmed, his smile slipping contentedly across his lips.

"I live to please. Or, better, I live to comfort." he replied playfully and she gave a sleepy hum, the corner of her mouth twitching.

"G'Night, Elliot." she breathed after another long moment of gentle quiet, when Elliot was battling with his laziness to get up and ready the sofa.

"Night, Wraith."

When he made to leave, however, a pale hand slid from under the duvet and caught the hem of his shirt, grip gentle but definitely there. His heart lurched and he stared at her sleeping face. She still looked… asleep. Was she asleep? Was she testing him? His heart rose in his throat as he stared at her face and wished he could…

God, why did he have to love her? She was just his friend, someone who didn't have much in the way of friends, looking for some comfort when drunk. They'd all been there. That was all. Right?

Urghhh, why did he have to be so freaking _hopeful_ that-

She was still holding the cotton of his shirt in her hand, and he slid his own hand over hers. She didn't let go.

"Wraith?"

She made no answer to his whisper. He debated just moving. He extracted himself, prying her fingers as gently as he could.

He failed spectacularly, though, and only got as far as uncurling her hand from his clothing before the heat of her palm in his broke the last of his willpower. He was sure to regret it in the morning that he sat back down, but right then he couldn't find the energy to move. He lay down atop the duvet beside her, his heart hammering hard and fast at being so close to her, lying on his bed with her sleeping form beside him.

He ached, all over, for the sweetness of it all. He watched his hand reach out without permission to delicately brush at the strands of dark hair falling over her eyes. Her hand twitched where he'd lain it on the bed between them and he wished he had the courage to take it, to… To do what, cowardly as he was? Wake her up and tell her everything? Admit-

"I love you."

Well, crap.

~.~


End file.
